I was sitting in the waiting area watching the incredible variety of people you see at LAX when I heard the boarding call.At this time I had been an aircraft pilot for 6 years and had my own aircraft. I should have flown it down but it was pappy van winkle for sale and much faster to take the jet.I got in line. We started moving toward the tunnel to board the plane when something “went off” in my stomach. I was suddenly VERY uneasy. Within seconds I wanted to run but I thought I was crazy AND I didn’t want anyone else to know.
Somehow I got on that plane. By now the panic attack was in full bloom. I was pouring sweat. I was shaking. I was afraid…but not afraid of something that made sense. I thought there was a good chance I’d die. The fear was immense and made me feel crazy because, as near as I could tell, there was no reason for this.Something was wrong with me! I was OK an hour ago and now I’m losing it. I was afraid I’d have to panic further and demand they land and let me off. I wanted to run.
I sat there, in my window seat, looking out at the scenery, like I used to love to do, but now all I had were legions of confused, evil feeling ideas swirling around inside my head.
I had to keep them in there. I couldn’t let anybody know! Every time the flight attendant ask me something I just mumbled that I didn’t feel well.
That was the longest flight of my life even though it was less than two hours. I had thought about jumping out. I thought about my wife and kids. I tried to force myself to only think about positive things and, about an hour and a half after the panic attack started, it started to fade…slowly.
I was so happy and relieved. Then I started worrying that it would come back! Up, down, the whole rest of the flight.
When I got on the ground I went straight to the bar and drank a double of whisky.
I grabbed my bags and went out to the car. I was thinking things like “What the hell was that!” And then I remembered the fear of it coming back! So I stuffed it.
When I got home I didn’t tell my wife about it.
The next day things seemed normal and I forgot about it. Until the panic attacks returned. I couldn’t get onto an elevator. I couldn’t meet with business associates in a closed room. I made a LOT of excuses.
The next years were hard to get through. I tried everything I could. I knew what they were now, but I didn’t know how to get rid of them, until I fell across a book that I can’t recall the name of.
I drove my little sports car to a spot down by the river and read the book. I cried when I saw myself explained exactly in that book. It had several therapies, mostly mind work and meditating, and some phrases to repeat. It took a while but I felt immediate partial relief and encouragement.